


Paper crown

by Dogtrash



Category: John Lennon - Fandom, Johnlennonxpaulmccartney - Fandom, Johnxpaul - Fandom, McLennon - Fandom, P - Fandom, Paul McCartney - Fandom
Genre: 1960s, Anorexia, Beatlemania, Depression, ED - Freeform, Eating Disorder, M/M, The Beatles - Freeform, paul mccartney - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-09
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2018-12-13 11:11:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 22,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11758611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dogtrash/pseuds/Dogtrash
Summary: Paul thought  he was ugly, fat and worthless. John thought he was a princeThis fic does not support eating disorders!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo

Pauls pov

    The sound of the old hotel door creaking open sounded down the hall that connected my room to the rest of the beatles. Making we wince from the loud noise as it did so.  
  Once it was open I remained still for a while until I was sure niether my band mates or my manager, Brian, had been pulled from their sleep form the racket the door made. No one needed to be awake for this. This was for me only.  
  Once I was 100% sure no one has been woken up I slowly reached out a leg and softly placed it on the ground. Listening for a squeak from the floor boards. Barely any came. So I quickly scattered into the bathroom and slipped the door shut. Resulting in another load squeak.  
  I stilled again, listening to see if anyone has been awakened this time. 

10 seconds. 20 seconds. 30 seconds.

  No one was up. Good. I paced through the small room to the counter besides the toilet.

  Ok paul, just do it.

  Slowly, I opened the door and pulled out the scale before placing it on the ground and shutting the counter door again. Making as little sound as possible.  
  My breath quickened as I stripped my night gown off and let it fall into a pile besides my feet on the tiled floor. I stepped into it and looked up as soon as the blue light came up. I didn't want to see. But I know I'd look eventually. I always did.

  What if I gained? What if nothing I've done worked?"

  The thoughts mixed around my head as my eyes slowly ventured to the scale before reading the wieght.

  137. Same as last time.

  I sighed and put the scale away gently. At least I haven't gained. 

  I don't gain, I don't loose. Why am I stuck? People won't love me if I'm stuck. I need to loose. 

    I slowly retreated back to my bedroom. Head hung in defeat. I'll try again tomorrow.

  I can't remember when I got like this. I just happened.  
  Once I was just an innocent catholic boy from Liverpool no one liked. A no body. I never once tried to make them like me because well, I didn't want to change who I was.  
  Now I can't remember who I was. Who I am really. I just try and fit in. Loose wieght, dress cool, try and be pretty. I've worn this mask so long I don't even know who's underneath it anymore. All I know is his name's Paul and we couldn't be more different now he's a beatle.

 

Sorry it's so short. Note: the average wieght for a 5'11 man (Paul's hight) is 146-157 if they have a small frame (like Paul's)

______


	2. Chapter two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so shitty and short. This isn't my main fanfic so :/

  "Thank You! YEAH! You guys ready for the next song? it's off our new album and it's called HELP! ONE TWO THREE FOUR."

  We all jumped into the next song as John announced it. Hearing the crowd around is roar as we did so. The overall hype and energy distracted me from the pain I was experiencing in my stomach from not eating all day. Which I was of course great full for. I hadn't lost anything the previous night so I wasn't going to eat today in hopes it'll go down tonight. If it doesn't then I don't know what to do. It seems like no matter how hard I try I'll always be fat. The wight just clings to it.

  "Paul, you're missing your beat."

  George whispered in my ear. Pulling me out if thought. I immediately shifted my attention to my bass. Hoping none of the screaming teens or reporters had picked up on my lack of skills.   
  The band wouldn't really notice. Well care if I missed a beat. I mean, with the concerts going on 3 or more hours (including the breaks) into the early hours of the morning it isn't to unusual that we slip up a few times towards to end. They know how much work we've done today.

____________________________________

  Great show tonight boys! Brian and George congratulated us as they swung the door of the back stage changing rooms open. Revealing three half dressed boys, me not included.   
  I had gotten changed in the toilets. Sparing my three band mates from my fat thighs and chubby stomach. I mean if I wanted to throw up every time I saw it surely they would as well. 

I mean I'm being considerate here.

"Thanks eppy!"

John almost yelled as he patted him on the back. The adrenaline from the concert obviously hadn't worn off him yet.

"It's ok John. Hey guys, early night tonight because we're setting off back to Liverpool again ok? We're staying in another hotel closer to the airport tonight since we're leaving early. There's not many beds though so you all have partner up and share!"

Eppy explained before him and George swiftly left the room. Probably so they wouldn't be caught up in complaining if any where to arise. We normally didn't mind sharing beds. Well they did. I hated it.

Sharing beds meant it would be harder to go and wiegh myself. Meaning I will most likely have to wait till we're back in Liverpool to do it. Meaning more anxiety about not knowing how much I wiegh.   
Plus sharing a bed would mean whoever I share with, probably John, will have to see my fat as things since I sleep in boxers and a shirt. Also, if he cuddles up to me, which he sometimes does, he's going to feel all the fucking fat on me. 

He'll be sick!

This is going to be a long fucking night.


	3. Chapter three

  "Can't I sleep on the couch or something?"

  I whined as the taxi drove down the busy rodes from the post concert mayhem. I was squashed between George and John as Ringo took the much desired front seat in the taxi.  
  I had been complaining the whole way home and it was noticeably starting to annoy my band mates. If it weren't for the fact I could feel the fat of my legs and arms pressing into my band mates I would have gladly stopped my whining by now. But it was only a coping mechanism. If I stop then I will only feel worse. 

  Besides maybe if I complain enough then I'd be able to sleep on my own away from anyone who could judge me.

  "Paul. We've told you 100 times and we won't tell you again. You need to sleep with John tonight. There's two beds which is enough for us all to sleep in them. So we will sleep in them."

  George explained again. A hint of irritation clear in his voice. I look down to my lap in silence. It seemed so clear to them how it would work out. But to me this will never work. I'd get no sleep this way. I mean yeah a hard couch would give me a bad back but sharing a bed with John will give me a panic attack and ruin our friendship. 

  "What's wrong with sleeping with me anyway paulie?"

  One of John's strong arms came round to wrap around my sholder. Resulting in me tensing up almost instantly as he made even more preventable contact with me.  
  I remember when this innocent contact used to comfort me. I remember when I loved the idea of sharing a bed with my best friend because I could cuddle up to him and sleep through the night.   
  I only ever slept really well when I was with john. His sent was so comforting and his embr embrace was so warm it just blocked out the rest of the world while his soft, rhythmic breathing almost sang me to sleep.

  That wasn't the case anymore.

  I just lay awake with my mind racing with thoughts about this being the last time I spent time with him. The last time he wanted to look at me or be around me because I was so fucking horrible. 

  Well, I have been able to avoided sleeping with john since I've been like this. But I bet that will happen. Cuddling wouldn't be the same with all that extra wieght. 

  Guys shouldn't cuddle anyeay, that suits queer and illegal. When we last did that we where teens and innocent. It'd be a lot different now.  
    
________  
New chapter! I don't upload on this story much. It if you want me to write more make sure you vote and comment!


	4. Chapter 4

"What's wrong with sleeping with me macca? I haven't got any bugs."

  John attempted a gag was the two beatles either side of me pushed open the car doors and slipped out. Letting the cold night air rush into the car as a struggled to undo my seat belt so I could follow them.

  "You used to cuddle with Johnny all the time paulie. What's wrong? You're not as queer for him anymore? Is it because he ditched the leather trousers?"

  The three boys burst out laughing at Ringo's comment. I let out a forced laugh aswell. Not because I didn't find it funny, it was just because the realness of sharing a bed with John was sinking in and was admittingly making me a bit on edge. Which is obviously resulting in me not being able to take off my seat belt.

  "I can always bring them back for you princess."

John slurred seductively. Wiggling his eye brows enthusiastically to prove it was a joke as he ducked his head back into the car to undo my seat belt for me. Seeing as he obviously knew I was struggling to do it.

  Just before his large hands reached my seat belt I managed to breathe in as much as possible. Trying my very hardest to make sure he felt as little of the disgusting fat that was on my tummy.

  A shame I couldn't 'breathe in' with my thighs. Honestly they're the size of tree trunks.

  "I'd rather you didn't."

  I tried go continue the joke aster I was tree from the belt and the car. The taxi drove off quickly behind us. Most likely glad go finally have me out of his car. We jogged together closers to the other two who by now had made their way into rather warm receotion. Thank god.   
  The cold was really getting to me recently. Apparently it's a side effect of getting skinner. Though if that where true why am I feeling cold? I'm not fucking skinny!

  "Hear that lads? Paul says he hates my leather trousers!"

  John announced as goerge and Ringo came into view. The four of us, Brian and George Martin were the only people in the reception at this time. Save for the night shift receptionist who barely looked alive.

  "Here you go gentle men. Room 456, for Mr Harrison and star. Room 457 for Mr Lennon and McCartney and room number 458 for Mr epstien and Martin."

  The receptionist rattled off the details of our rooms as she slid three keys over the counter to us. Not even bothering to place them in our hands.

  Not that I blame her. If I was working the night shift in a shifty hotel and probably  had to deal with countless annoying guests I'd be a bit pissed aswell. 

  "Thank you ma'am!" 

  John said as he grabbed his keys. The receptionist made no acknowledgement to the lead singer. Not even when he tipped his imaginary hat at her.   
  She wasn't taking any bullshit.

  "John she's not having it."

  I giggled as I started walking towards the door labeled "stairs" none of the boys following me.

  "There is a lift ya know paulie? No need to use the stiars!"

  Ringo stated as I reached the stairs door. I know full well there was a door if I'm hondst. But fatasses like me don't loose wieght taking the fucking lift do they?

  "Race you?"

  I challenged. Though it came out more as a question. None of the boys said anything at first. Not until George broke out into a wife grin and made a quick dash for the lift. Sending me on my way up the stairs and out of view.  
  I flew up the stairs as fast as my weak legs could carry me. My stomach was straining more and more with each step and I could slowly see my vision being impaired as I scaled the stairs. 

  What was happening?

__________

  Hey guys thanks for reading! I'll try and upload more often when I actually find out what the fuck I'm doing with my other story.   
Comments really encourage me to write more so they are appropriated!


	5. Chapter 5

*ding ding ding*

  My eyes blinked open. Where was I? What was that noise? A yellowish light was shining on me from the cieling through my squinted eyes.  
   Gradually my eyes began to focus and I could take my surroundings. I was on the stairs, laying on the stairs even. My back hurt along with my stomach. How long have  I been here?

  My eyes darted to the old grandfather clock on plain the wall. Wow, I was only out a few seconds. Great. I mean I lost the challenge but at least no one was going to come looking for me.

  I pulled myslef up to my feet. Feeling as if the world was spinning around me as I did so. My hands gripped the banister tightly to steady myslef. I needed sleep. I needed to eat.

  But I couldn't do that. I should just sleep instead. I'll stay as far away on the bed from John as I could to avoid any touches to my chubby arms and thighs and I'll hopefully be a good night's sleep and be ok by the morning. Hopfully. 

  Slowly, using the banister and doors for support I pulled myslef to mine and John's hotel room. Once I finally had my hand on the door knob I stilled outside the door. 

  You can't do this Paul. 

  I straitend my back and relaxed my sholders before knocking. Everything's ok.

  George's pov  
    
"You took your time."  
    
  I commented as the door was opened by Ringo and a very disheveled Paul walked in.  
  Seeing the boy shoot up the stiars 5 minutes ago really made me think the bassist  was going to win our stupid race like he's done so many times before.  But somehow he lost today. I mean I'm great full because I haven't won in months but still it's strange.

  "Needed the loo."

  He commented. Sounding remarkably of breath as he said so.

  Probably the stiars.

  "Ah, well that loo break as cost you to buy us a paint each!"

  I declared. Making Ringo cheer in agreement with me. Paul only smiled and sat down on the couch next to me and Rigs. Some random show was playing that I didn't quite know the name of but we didn't mind. It passed the time while we waited for john to make our tea so we could go to bed.

  It wasn't everyday that John offered to make tea. Or offered to anything like that fir us. Normally all the 'motherly' jobs were left to Paul to handle even though he rarely made himslef anything we ate as he was "going off it". We always joked that America's ruined paul. He doesn't eat our crumpets, full english breakfasts or our tea. He just says he doesn't feel like them anymore. 

  But that's nothing a few weeks back in England won't fix.

  "Teas ready children!"

  John yelled from the kitchen in a high pitched voice. He emerged with a try of four cups of tea and 8 digertives. Two for each of us.

  "Thanks mum."

  Ringo laughed as he took his cup and digestives from the tray, me doing to same afterwards. 

  "And my favorite child, paulie."

  John said in the same high pitched voice as before. Making us all burst out laughing as he set the whole try on Paul's knee before he took his own stuff and sat down between him and Ringo. 

  "How's come he gets a tray mum?"

  I asked, rubbing along with the joke. John dunked his digestive in his tea and took a bite out of it before answering my question.

  "Because he's my favorite and he gets privileges."

  "That's fucked up." 

  Ringo commented, shoving the last of his digestive into his mouth and chugging down his tea.

  "It's the truth."

  John commented. Making all three of us burst into laughter. I glanced over to Paul. Perhaps he wasn't laughing because he didn't want to be teased? He was just sipping his tea slowly and watching the tv.

  Oh he just wasn't listening.

Ringo's pov

  "Are you going to eat those?"

  Goerge asked paul. Nodding to the uneaten digestives on his tray. He shook his head and continued watching the tv. Letting George lean forwards and take them.

  "Oi! Stop taking paulie food."

  John warned, making George smirk as he popped an entire one in his mouth.

  "Wow deep throat."

  I commented, making John burst out laughing and George start choking. 

  "Serves you right."

  John laughed as snatched up the remaining biscuit before turning to paul.

  "Come on darling. Eat up."

  John said to Paul as he broke the digestive into quaters. Paul just shook his head and closed his eyes.

  He hadn't been eating much latly. I've noticed him dropping pounds a little too quickly. I had made a comment about it to John today just before we went on stage only really to get a second opinion on it. Maybe I was just crazy.  
  John agreed though. He had noticed it to. He was shivering quite often aswell. He didn't have enough meat on him.  
  It was just the tour though, we agreed. I mean it couldn't be any other reason. Paul always got home sick so it is reasonable to think his lack of eating was just because he was sad from being away from home. At least we were back tommorow. Well to Liverpool at least. 

  We were going to be in a hotel there for a week or so near the air port before we flew off yet again.  But that would give Paul loads of time to see his family.   
  

____

I don't upload much because no one reads this really


	6. Chapter 6

   John's pov

  "Come on macca. Let's get to you bed now since you seem to be falling asleep on their couch."

  I placed a hand on Paul's sholder to wake him up. He must have been more awake than I thought because he shot up as soon as I made contact with him. Slowly, he pulled himslef up himslef up and started to make his way over to the door.

  He was going so slow across the room. Just empithizing how tired he really was. Since we were young I've known that paul had sleeping problems. Waking up loads in the night and stuff. Perhaps today he would be able to sleep though all of that.   
  Sometimes when I slept with him I liked to stay up to make sure he slept well for at least a few hours. Ever since I woke up while he was mid nightmare when we were around 16 and 18. Tonight seemed like it was going to be one of those nights seeing as I didn't seem at all as tired as Paul was.

   Paul kept in front of me the whole time. Only once turning back to smile at me when we got to our door. I unlocked it and we stepped in. I was defiantly small. But nothing we couldn't do. We've slept in the same single bed 100s of times growing up so this double bed wouldn't be a problem.

  "You have to get changed first macca!"

  I laughed, seeing Paul just flop down on the bed as soon as I could flick the light on. He made no stir or showed any acknowledgment at my line. I'll just leave hi. At least I was getting ready for bed.   
  Our suit cases had been brought up to the room before hand which I was great full for. I shuffled over to the Corner where the cases had been chucked, pulling off my jacket and unbuttoning my shirt as I did so.   
  I unzipped the suitcase and pulled out a random shirt to wear to bed. I only slept in them and boxers.   
  Soft snores could be heard from the bed as I got changed quickly. How Somone could fall asleep while diagonal on a bed wearing a beatles suit and boots I didn't know.

  He was probably uncomfortable. 

  Sure the boy was tired but I doubt he'd sleep well in that at all. Maybe I should just take his blazer and shoes off at least. Give him a bit of room. I know he'd do the same for me.

  "Paul? Paul luv?"

   Trying not to make the sleeping beatle jump. I slowly began to shift his jacket down his sholders and arms. Surprisingly managing to pull it down without much difficulty as the boy was so deep in sleep. I did the same for his shoes and then began to unbutton the first few buttons of his shirt.  These fucking shirts where so tight I felt fucking strangled singing on stage never mind whole tossing and turning in a bed.

  "Mphf johnny."

  Paul mumbled. One hand going up your rub his eyes before returning to his side. He eyes never opeing. A smile of endearment crept onto my face. He was just so cute sometimes. Saying my name still while half asleep.

  "Ok Paulie. You're going to have to scoot up to your pillow ok? Need to get you under the blankets."

  My words came out strangly loving me. Sort of in the tone cynthia would talk to Julian in when she was trying to get him to do somthing. I never used it myslef really.

Ugh I was tired.

  Paul seemed to understand as he shuffled up on the bed sluggishly. Peeling back the blankets and snuggling into them all by himself before closing his eyes and seemingly going back to the same state he was in  minutes ago. Sleep.

  I went round to my side of the bed and slipped in aswell. Taking Paul's sleeping state as an excuse to cuddle him. I always slept better when I was cuddling someone. Paul never seemed to mind up until late. He snuggled back into my instinctively as I wrapped my arms around him.   
  He was...bony.  one hand slipped up from his waist to his chest while the other went to his hip. His bones where so...prominent.  I could trace every little one with my finger. Could I do that before? I don't know, I've never actually tired to. I don't think so though. That was strange...

_____________________________________________

  Hope you enjoy it! Please vote and comment!!


	7. Chapter 7

  Pauls pov

    Warmth. Blankets and pillows surrounded me. My eyes blinked open. All the lights were off so I couldn't see. Where was I again?  
  I felt so comfortable. So well rested. I haven't slept that well in ages.  
  Something moved behind me. Arms tightened around my waist as I shifted to turn the lamp on.

  I was being fucking cuddled?!

  No, no, no, no, no. This can't be happening. My hands slid over the wire of the lamp.looking the switch. Eventually I found it and the dull light came on.   
  Oh yeah. I was in the hotel. Sharing a bed with John. And he was cuddling me. When did that happen? I don't remember falling asleep. Or undressing even. John did that for me? That wasn't Good.

  Slowly I untangled myself from my sleeping band mate. He stirred slightly but didn't wake. Great. At least one thing was good. 

  After I was sure he was comfortable again I began to tip toe towards to bathroom. Would they have a scale here? Hopefully.  
  I flicked the bathroom light on and scanned the room. A scale sat in the corner besides the toilet. Thank God.  
  The old yellow lights buzzed quietly as I stripped my clothes and let them drop on the floor around my feet. 

  My hands began to shake slightly as I took a deep breath. Just trying to build up the courage to step on to the scale. I needed to know. I needed to know that I lost weight. 

Maybe if I did I could have something tiny got breakfast? I didn't want to faint again so if I did surely some sort of reward was in order.

Eat less. You're not loosing.

My own thoughts interrupted me. Maybe I'll just let myself work out a little less? 5 less minutes running? 10 less push ups? Seems a bit better. I'll have more strength aswell.

  My conflicting thoughts continued as I stepped into the scale. My eyes shot up to directly in front of me. I didn't want to look down. But I know I have to.

  Eventually curiousity got the best at me and my eyes traveled down to the numbers. The arrow pointed to 134. That's three pounds lost. I did it! I finally fucking lost! After all my fucking hard work. 

  I stepped back the from scale. Letting the arrow return back to zero. A small wave of relief washed over me. I had lost. I wasn't at my goal weight but at least I was getting closer. I can't go back to bed now, wrap myself in the blankets and have a crumpet or something in the morning. I did it.

  As I turned to leave I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My feet stopped in this tracks as my doe eyes took in my body. I was only in my boxer shorts.

  I looked, sorta small. I could see my ribs a bit. My thighs didn't touch anymore.

  When I was 15 I didn't look like that. I looked full. Smooth thighs that touched slightly. A waist that dipped a but still had a little meat on it.

  Did I like this more? Did I really? 

  I guess I do. I should like this more. This was beautiful apparently. Yeah. That was just my mind trying to trick me into eating more. To giving in. I couldn't do that!

  But why was I happier back then? When I had a little meat on my hips. When I used to sit on John's lap and pretend to be Cynthia. Pissing him off beyond belief. Times were so joyful back then. I suppose it was just because I was a kid? I guess I wasn't in the real world then. Was I? Isn't this what the world is? What the world wants? Why is it so painful to do? 

  Who was it anyway. I didn't look like James Paul McCartney. I looked like "beatle member Paul McCartney" wasn't it the same? I was still the same person.

  Buy why do i look so different? Why do I feel so different? Why do I act so different. So closed off.   
   Why did it hurt so bad? Why do I feel so much pain? Aren't I living the dream? 

  "Macca? Where are ya?"

  The floor boards creaked outside the door. My breath got caught in my throat as the handle dipped down.  
  The door creaked open. John stuck his head in.

  "Paul? What's wrong?"

  He asked me. His eyes laced with worry. I didn't know I was crying until know. Tears stained my cheeks and my whole body was shaking. 

  "I'm hungry."

  I whimperd.

______________________________________

  What did you think of this chapter? Please vote and comment as it motivates me to write more!


	8. Chapter 8

John's pov

  "I'm hungry."

  Paul whimperd before he broke. Dropping to the floor and curling into a ball. His shaking hands coming to hold onto his hair. His grip still weak even though it looked as if it took so much effort just to bring his hands to his head.

  My heart felt a sharp pang of pain. I didn't know where to start. What to do. How to make Paul feel better.

  If he was hungry why hadn't he of eaten earlier? When I asked him to? Carefully not to frighten him, I knelt down in front of my shaking band mate. His hands came away from his hair with minimal effort yet he stayed in a ball shaking.  
  He looked tiny. Literally tiny. I wouldn't be surprised if he weighed less than our girlfriends when we were Young. He was so fragile as if he was going to snap if I spoke a little to hard.

  "You're hungry? Macca? Ok darling lets sit up, yeah? We can go get you something to eat."

  My hand gently grabbed his shoulder as I moved him onto his back. The poor boy was shivering in the cold from still being in only his underwear but this gave me a good look at how skinny my friend really was.  
    
  Just skin. Meat wasn't on him at all. I could count all his ribs even in this dimly lit bathroom. His stomach just caved in to inches thick before his hip bones pretruded out. 

  He wasn't going to walk. I knew he probably could walk if he wanted to but just how he looked into my eyes with shame and hurt and how child like and little he looked in front of me made me fill with an urge to protect. To take him under my care and make him healthy again.

  How could I have let him get so skinny? How could he let himself get so skinny? We had so much to talk about.

  After a few minutes of soothing my shaking band mate the best I could I managed to scoop him into my arms and lift him up, bridal style. He was super light. It almost felt as if I was carrying Cynthia if she had been a little lighter.   
  He hid his tear stained face in my shoulder as I moved him to the bed. We're still leaving at four tommorow so I doubt we will be able to go far for something to eat so perhaps we should stay in and see what's in the fridge.  
  I glaced at the clock that was sitting on Paul's ends bedside table. It read 2:11AM, so I had time I guess if I could get Paul up and out for food quick enough. Not much sleeping was going to get done tonight I knew that so I think it's best I treat Paul to something he likes.

  "Chips?"

  I asked Paul softly while rummaging through my suitcase for the big hoodie aunt Mimi had baught and made me pack. I thought it was useless really as it was so thick and heaps big but she kept saying 'it'll keep you warm, John.' so I brought it.  
  I guess it did come in handy now. Additionally, I pulled out some thick black denim jeans aswell that were FAR to tight on me. I don't know what Cynthia was thinking when she baught these for me but that's not important. They'll fit Paul pretty well right now.

  "What's that?"

  I asked. Not hearing a response from Paul when I asked if he wanted some chips. I saw a 24 hour place that serverd "British styled fish 'n' chips" in the taxi a few minutes away from the hotel so I guess that's the best place to go. When Paul was sad fish and chips was always the perfect comfort food I got him so it only seemed logical to give it to him now.  
    
  "Yeah."

  He murmured as he pulled the jumper from my arms, I let him take it from me and watched as his arms lifted above his head to pull it on. Showing me his tiny frame once more.  
    I handed him his jeans next and he slipped into them. They where a tiny, tiny bit loose on him but they fit a load better than they did on me. 

  "Well that's sorted. Go get your shoes and we can leave, good thing I slept in this shit isn't it."

  I tried to lighten the mood as I slipped my shoes on and walked over to my side of the bed to retrieve my jacket I had thrown off before. Meanwhile Paul laughed suttletly yet genuinely as he put his shoes on aswell before he made his way to the door. Wiping dried tears from his cheeks as he did so to look more presentable.  
  He wasn't shaking anymore. He had calmed down mostly and was in the "Paul's upset" mood I was very much familiar with. Just quiet and wanting to do something. I could deal with this much better. I had been doing so for years.

  The fact he was laughing at all after that was great though. I didn't want to embarrass him or baby him by dressing him either. He was a grown up and I wanted to keep treating him that way. If I where in the same situation as him I'd only want to me taken sirously aswell.


	9. Chapter 9

Paul's pov 

  John stayed close to me the whole journey to the chip shop. The cold was worse than it was when we walked into the hotel, my elbows and fingers where being bitten by the cold even though I had tucked them away into the jumper John gave me.  
  I didn't know why John reacted the way he did. It hard looking at me like this from a friends point of view. But isn't it hard to look at me full stop?  
  I didn't like seeing myself like this either really. But it didn't mean I had to stop. I was the cute Beatle according to the press! wasn't I? Imagine if I gained all my weight back! I wouldn't know what to do with myself. The papers would have field day!  
  I'm still not cute, not skinny or anything. But I need comfort right now, And that comfort is coming from eating chippy right now.

  "What do you want, luv?"

John asked as he pushed the door open with one hand while the other guided me inside. I felt a strange sense of being loved when I was around John. A love I haven't felt since my mum died a few years ago. I never knew a best friend could have that sort of effect on me but John managed it.   
  Was it normal to love a friend as much as we loved each other? I don't really. But it didn't matter, we were just friends and being a little close with affection didn't mean much. 

  "Chips, sausage and gravy please, darling."  

  (This is my order at the chippy, the chip shop in my village is the best in the world don't @ me)

  I laughed at him, playing along with his shenanigans. John rang the bell on the counter and a short, blonde haired girl quickly emerged from the back room. Sue blushed off her apron with her hands before coming to greet us.

  "What can I do for you to? It's not usual we get sober customers in here this late!"

  The lady said with a smile. She seemed sweet. I read her name tag "rose" that's a nice name. 

  "Who says we're sober?"

  I giggled. The mood lighter now. We could sleep on the plane tommorow. Right now I'm happy to be here instead of my bed.  
   John and I laughed at rose shaking her head at my comment. She still couldn't hide the small smirk on her face. 

  "I can't just tell haha. Anyway what can I get you."

   John listed off our order while i stuck my hands into my pockets to retrieve my wallet. Only my hands where met with a few receipts instead. Fucking hell. How fucking smart of me! I've forgotten It! 

  "Don't worry Macca, I'll pay."

  John said, reading my mind perfectly. I smiled at him before looking to the floor...ill repay him later.   
    
  "Thanks. I'll pay you back."

  I said, picking up two of the wooden forks in the cup next to the till. I would pay him back, if he's caring for me so much right now doesn't he deserve at least a little bit in return.   
  I always payed John back though. Even if the git never returned my money I hated owing things to people. Especially John. I didn't want to rely on him for some reason I always found myself being cared for by him. 

  He never did any thing the other boys. He was more tough love and poking jokes when it came to the others. He wasn't the type of person who you'd go to with your problems.  But for some reason John was different towards me. Perhaps we just related on a deeper level than the others? Maybe.  
  I was pretty affectionate with George but nothing like how I was with John.  
  It was strange really, when I was 16 or so we'd be like the best friends we are and poke jokes at each other while chatting about birds and then a few hours later I'd be falling asleep against his chest. Not something we questioned. Just something we did.

  "I'll bring the food over to you two when it's done. Take a seat!"

  Rose smiled before twisting on her heels and returning to the kitchen. John dragged me over to one of the booths in the corner furthest from the kitchen and closest to the dimly lit back alley street thing. Flowers in painted pots and all sorts of art  scattered the street. It looked strangly beautiful.

  "Oi. Look at me."

  I snapped back into reality when John clicked his fingers in front of my face. He had slid into the seat across from me with some packets of sauce.

  "Oh sorry."

  I smiled, trying to bring my hands out my pockets to retrieve the ketchup to throw back at him as I was having gravy. He wasn't that bright really. My John.  
  Receipts fell out as I slipped out my hand and I bent under the table to retrieve it. Deciding to unfold it and read it.

  "Let's see what's Johnny's been buying!"

  I said, cheerfully opening the paper and reading the items list. John made no effort to stop me, he only looked at me with a grin on his face. I don't think he remembers what he baught.

  " Number one from Tesco's! Walkers crisps and an 8 pack of beer! Wow, interesting."

  I laughed and slid the receipt over to John who stuffed it into the pocket of the coat he was wearing. Where it would stay for a few more months.

  "Receipt two! From...xnxx?"

  John's pov

   I laughed softly at Paul's attempt to read the name, Pronoucing it "exanexex", before I realised what he was reading. Xnxx. The fucking porn shop.

"No, not that one Macca."

  I said softly, like I was talking to a child for the second time that night. What has gotten into me.  
  My efforts where to late though as Paul was already reading it.

"Why no jo- uh a girls porn magazine and cherry lube? Johnny!"

  Paul blush spread to his ears after it clicked what he had read. I stayed silent. Wishing... Daisy? Violet? Would come out with our food so I didn't have to explain myself.

  "Why a female one Johnny? Aren't they full of boys?"

He asked, still very much confused. I could see him racking his brain for an answer when under all that hair.

  "Yeah. I wanted to see what it was like. There's quizzes and stuff to see what your man would like in bed and stuff. Thought it'd be fun to take them."

  I blurted out. It was sorta true. I did want to take the quizzes but it wasn't the main reason I baught it.


	10. Chapter 10

*Flashback*

"Right then, that'd be two pounds."

The cashier read off the till. A smirk plastered on his face as he was obviously enjoying my discomfort. I rummaged through my pocket and pulled out a two pound coin. Practically throwing it on the counter as I grabbed my stuff and receipt and ran out the shop with the lube and receipt in one pocket and the magazine stuffed under my jumper.

I kept it there till I got home. Mimi was out at bingo or whatever she did in the day because I had flunked school to do this. If anyone I knew would have seen me do this I could kiss goodbye my bad boy image.

Once I was safely locked in my room I flicked the lights on at the wall and climbed onto my bed before I finally pulled out the lube from my pocket and chucked it on the bed. I then took pulled my jumper over my head and discarded it on the floor. revealing the magazine.  
I took a few seconds to really look at the cover. I had purchased the thing in such an embarrassed hurry I didn't really look at the cover in detail. I just looked for the title.   
It wasn't the first time I got a porn magazine. I had bought quite a lot. Only today was different. It wasn't a guys porn magazine. Well not quite.

The magazine was marketed as a women's magazine. But that was more of a cover-up. In Liverpool it was very well known that Johnson's was very much a gay magazine.   
Not that I was gay myself. I had Cynthia and I was very much happy with her. I loved women. Their thighs, their waist, their everything. So Yeah, I defiantly wasn't gay.

I was curious? Not gay! I was not at all gay! Just... I was just curious.   
Stu had been talking about it an awful lot. His mate had come out to him and we were both very confused to how being queer actually worked.   
There was apparently a lot of gay men I our art collage, and women. Some sort of like open secret. Everyone knew it now. There was a lot of gay people in the collage. But no one spoke about it. No one knew who the gay people really were.   
After me and Stu had many long nights talking about who they could be and what it was like we agreed on something. I was going to buy the Johnson's magazine and we where going to read it.

The lube was really for me for whatever reason. Stu was coming over in a few hours after school so he could read it aswell. Just I wanted to take a look alone first. Because as I said, I was curious. 

The cover featured a man dressed in some black jeans that rided very low on his wide hips paired with a white, unbuttoned dress shirt. His hair was wet and one of his hands was running through it.

I focused my attention back on the man. His build was wide and masculine with a six back and strong arms and thighs. Not really my thing if I'm honest. I preferred guys who had the same build as me really, or maybe a bit weaker. Still so I could dominate them and they could dominate me.

Well not me obviously. I just didn't see the appeal in strong, wide men. I love Cynthia and a load of other birds so gay wasn't for me. But I could still see the appeal or preferences in something. It was normal.

*end of flashback*

  "Here's your food!"

  Roses happy voice interrupted whatever Paul was about to say. Two cardboard plates where put on the table full of hot chips. We both thanked her as she walked off before tucking into our meals.  
    
  "Quizzes?"

  Paul asked after a few minutes of silence as we began to eat. I shook my head and swallowed my chips. Here we go again.

  "Yeah. Quizzes."

  I said plainly before I took another bite. Waiting for another question. 

  "What did you get?"

  He asked. 

  Our conversation continued as we ate. Really just me dodging the questions and instead talking about what Stu got. I soon finished my meal and looked over at Paul's plate. He had barely eaten. Maybe a few mouthfuls of chips and a bite of sausage but nothing else. He loved fish and chips! Why didn't he finish it?

  Paul's pov

  "Are you going to eat that, macca?"

  John asked, referring to my plate of basically uneaten chips. I stayed silent for a few moments as I tried to get down one more bite. Swerling the chip around with my fork as I tried to convince myself to eat it.  
   Truthfully I just felt full. Ever since I stopped being such a pig I could never get much down even when I wanted to. It's as if my stomach as srunk down so much I couldn't manage much. My body couldn't handle it anymore. And I guess that was a good thing.

  John could do it, obviously. The other boys could eat literally anything and still stay fucking skinny. To say I was jealous of that was a  understatement. 

  Still, even with such a tiny apitate. I rarely got full despite how little I ate. So the fact I was full now wasn't the best feeling. I wasn't supposed to be full. I wasn't supposed to eat.  
  Just the thought of me gaining weight from this made my stomach turn. I had to keep it down though. I promised myself ever since I started doing this basically necessary thing that no matter how fat I looked. I would never make myself throw up. For many reasons. One being that I hated the feeling so much and another being my dentist would find out. Them the press will find out. Then the whole world will know I'm not really skinny. I'm a fucking cheater.

  I put my fork down. I couldn't eat anymore. I couldn't do that to myself. 

  "I'm full."

  I said. Even I could hear how distant I sounded. John face changed. He looked upset. I'm such an idiot. Idiot, idiot idiot. Can't do one thing without upsetting someone. I should be more self aware

_____________________________________________

  I don't know how I feel about this. I don't think it's a good chapter. It's all jumpy. 

 

I'M SO SORRY I FORGOT TO UPLOAD CHAPTER NINE TO AO3! AT LEAST YOU GET TWO CHAPTERS TODAY


	11. Chapter 11

   Paul's pov

  The first few minutes of our walk home was spent in a rather comfortable silence. Just me and John walking down the alleys  cobbled strerts. Only the sound of our boots hitting the stones as we walked back to our hotel.  
  I didn't end up eating my meal. I had gotten few bites down before I felt to full go continue. Its a good thing now my body can't handle so much food, because it means I'll slim down faster. But now John's seen me like this a new element of guilt has been added. Just how sad and even disappointed he looked when I didn't finish me meal. Of course I know he's going to worry, he always does when he sees I'm upset, but I think he needs to understand that I need to do this. It isn't a choice. Not really anyway. Being disgusting isn't a choice to me.

  "Paul."

  John broke the silence after a while. We were only about 10 minutes from the hotel at this point and I had pulled out some cigs and a lighter out of the jacket John was wearing. Luckily earning a soft laugh from him as he took his and held it out to be lit.  
  John's words were left hanging in the air for a while. I didn't know what he was going to say. It didn't sound like a question. He didn't seem happy or sad. I was nervous.

  "Yes Johnny?"

  I said timidly. Keeping my distance from him a bit so he couldn't touch me while still making it as subtle as possible. He had his arm around me as he walked into the chippy, I remembered it, so I can't let him do that again. Thoughts of me in the bathroom came back to me again after my mind being far from them ever since we left the hotel. It was so embarrassing!  
  I was crying like a child over what I saw in the bloody mirror. I used to be a whale yet I still didn't bloody cry over it! Obviously it had to be after I lost weight, just to ruin the moment I should have been allowing myself to celebrate. Typical. And I went and are those chips.

  And I went and are those chips...

  Oh my fucking God how thick can I be?! The second I loose after weeks of being at the same weight I go and eat the damn things I had been avoiding for bloody months! How typical of me. I can't bloody believe myself.

  "Why haven't you been eating lately."

  John's voice somewhat dragged me from my thoughts and back to moment. Though it was still on the same topic I felt lost for words. I didn't know. Not at that moment anyway. Nor did I want tell him. He'd know Id cheated! If I'm honest,cheating does seem like a strange word to say when it's a game by myself with no real rules but to loose weight but it just seems like I'm cheating. Just cheating people into thinking I'm naturally normal? If that makes sense. I don't really know what's going on in my head if I'm honest. 

_____________________________________________

I know this chapter is short and shitty but I have huge writers block and I just felt bad leaving you all for so long without an update. I'm looking into how to make my writing better and I have a few exams coming up so I might be gone for a few weeks (about 2) hope everyone understands


	12. Chapter 12

  I didn't speak for a few seconds. Instead I just sat in silence and let the words sink in. Yeah I had always knew since we met again after our first meeting at the village fate that he cared about me. It was just instant. We bonded over the death of our mother's and smoked together. He had always cared but just hearing him say those words. I never knew he cared like that. It was a bother caring. Not a way of caring like this was.  
  I didn't even know what to say. I just sort of  steard at the grimey floor until I felt a strong arm come around me and pull me closer to John. So close I could feel his beating heart against my shoulder. I had to say something, that much was clear, but perhaps that something had to be the truth.

  "I just wanna be pretty"

  I whispered before I turned and hid my face in the crook on his shoulder. John didn't move a muscle and it's not cirten if that was a good or bad thing. Whatever the reaction was I didn't want to see it. I never wanted anyone to know in the first place. And now John knew the truth about my cheating and ringo had...noticed?

  "You were pretty before though. And healthy."

  John whispered back. His soft hand running up and down my back as I attempted to blink away the tears forming on my eyes. I didn't want to cry twice in once night, if I could help it, but the emotions were just to strong and I was honestly just a huge mess of stress, guilt and tiredness.   
  I knew what John was getting at. What I was doing wasn't healthy, and I wasn't going to deny it, but it somewhat nessacery. If you look at something long enough you start to think it's beautiful. John's been looking at this mess for years now of course he was going to think I was pretty. But on first glance. I sure as hell wasn't.   
  I looked at John through my tear obstructed vision. His hand was still heavy on my back comforting me while he looked at me with messy hair, dry skin and worried eyes. He looked a mess, yet still somehow beautiful.

  "I'm not Johnny. Please don't lie to me."

  I looked down at my knees as a few years escaped my eyes. John's rhythmic rubbing on my back stalled and messed up for a second as I spoke. I felt small and weak letting my guard down like this but there was no way out know. John wouldn't stop worrying and pressing till he knew everything.

  "Macca, I'm not lying. You are!"

  John said softly. Now stopping his arms and instead wrapping it around my waist and onto my bony hip. I wanted to shift and move his hand away but I just couldn't. I needed this as strange as it sounded.

  "Look. I can't see you're tired but we have minutes until the rest wake up. How about you keep those pretty eyes open a little longer and then you can sleep on the plane Yeah? Maybe have a little nap in the taxi. We'll talk more about this when we're home."

  John spoke just as a taxi flew past on the road. Bringing me out of my emotional state and back to reality. I stoop up and John joined me as we slipped back towards your hotel room to change clothes and all that. The fact I had to talk about this again stayed on my mind. I hated this. I also hated not knowing when it would be just like I hated not knowing my weight. It had probably gone up since I ate those chips...

  Now isn't the time to think about that though.

  "How do I stay awake?"

  I asked. I was defiantly tired. Lack of sleep, lack of food and defiantly no lack of stress just made me want to sleep. But I can't do that until we we're on the plane. 

  "Just think about something."

  John said simply as he pushed the hotel door open. Revealing the almost untouched state we left it in. Georges and ringo was probably a mess. beer cans, tea cups and my half a digestive I wouldn't eat.

  "Like What?"

  I asked 

  "Like this."

  John said as he backed me up against the now closed door. My mind couldn't process what was happening until I suddenly felt hid lips on mine. My mind went black. All my worries floated away.


	13. Chapter 13

  John's pov

  Me, Paul, ringo, George, Brian and the rest were all stood in the airport besides the runway waiting for them to attach the stairs to our plane. The so far day had been uneventful to say the least and we all couldn't wait to get back to Liverpool. Especially me as I had a plan to put into action.  
  I thought it up when we were going to the airport in the taxi and just couldn't shake it out of my head. It'd take a lot of work but if we're back at 1pm like we were promised, I could enrol the help of rigs to get it done for tonight. How Paul was going to react to it was unknown as well  but I'll just hope for the best.  
    
  Speaking of Paul, the cute beatle had drifted off to sleep in the taxi and had never really woken up properly since. We was walking, if you could call it that, but his adorable eyelids were dropping and his hair was messy. Once he was awake he'd be embarrassed all his teen fans and paparazzi saw him like that but it didn't matter. He looked cute now.   
  We had both changed when we got back to the hotel into our signature beatles suits the airport would be undoubtedly buzzing with fans trying yo catch a glimpse of their favourite Beatle and we couldn't be seen in old baggy jumpers. Especially not around Brian who surely would have killed us.

  "Ready boys?"

  Brian asked as we saw the machines retreat and the worker wave us over. We all nodded our heads apart from Paul who just stood there with the same dazed look he'd had on all day.

  "Tired."

  Paul moaned as he wrapped his bony arms round my neck. You could barely tell he was so skinny under he suit because they were so bulky. That didn't mean it was impossible to see though as, as his arms reached up and wrapped around my neck I got a look at his tiny wrists. Poor thing. I knew he was tired having not slept and had an emotional night. Not to mention the complete lack of food he'd been eating. Only a few minutes though until he can go back to sleep on the plane. Or less...

  "Here we go."

  I whispered into his ears as I crouch down slightly to grab both his legs because I stood up and held him in my arms, bridal style.

  He tensed was I felt his thighs but relaxed a few seconds later as he let his eyes close again. He has gotten a lot better with touch since I made him tell me everything. He still didn't go near us much and carrying was obviously a bit much for him but it's decidedly a lot better than he was previously. Where he didn't even want to be in a car with any of us touching him- which was impossible.

  "John? We're leaving! Put Paul down."

  Brian ordered as we walked through the doors and into the runway lined with thousands of fans. Who's screams only got louder when all of us came into sight.

   "He's sleeping."

  I said simply before I plasters a big grin on my face for the crowed and quickened my pace slightly so I was next to ringo and George. Both of whom smiled and laughed at Paul's sleeping state.    
  Carefully I clumped the stairs to the plane. Making sure not to startle Paul who was silently sleeping against my chest even with the loud screams coming from all angles.

  I don't know how he does it. But i don't know how he does anything he does.

_____________________________________________

   Rings pov

   "So what's the plan?"

  I asked as I took a seat on the wooden chair opposite John in his and Cynthias home. We had all barely been home a few hours before I got a call from John asked me to come round to help "execute a plan" he had. I had bored so I didn't question it as much as I probably should have and just got the nearest bus over.

   "Well. Our maccas gone through some hard times."

   John started off while dribbling God knows what onto some paper. Next to him were some envelopes, wax sceals, a weight thing and a candle for melting the wax.  Which was admittedly very strange of John. He never wrote letters and when he did he just licked them shut and never bothered with the wax sceal shit.

  "Yeah. Did you ever find out what it was?"

  I asked curiously. We had both noticed Paul's reluctance to eat as we started the tour. He wasn't drastic at first as far as I could tell but in the last few weeks of the tour, we never saw the lad eat more than a digestive.

  "Yes. But I think he'll tell you in his own time. Just encourage him to eat more."

  I nodded again as John dripped red coloured hot wax onto the envolope and pressed a weight onto it before starting on another letter. What in hells name was he doing?

  "Anyway. I need you to put there's three letters in the three places I tell you too. Hide them under a rock or something so no one can steal them and the weather won't get to them."

  John instructed as he wrote in huge writing on the last note from what I could tell. As I was at the opposite side of the table I couldn't actually read what was he wrote but I knew it was only a few words long.

  " 'ight. Can I ask why?"

  I said as John pushed all three envolopes towards me. All were neatly stacked on top of each other with a number written on the top tight corner. 1, 2 and 3.

  "Because. I've grown quite fond of my Paulie you know. I ain't going to go all queer on you now but I want to make the boy mine."

  John said. His eyes glaring at me to see my reaction. I just sort of sat there in silence for a few seconds processing it. So John liked Paul. That bit was simple as a concept. But... He was going to ask him out with romantic love letters scattered around Liverpool? Pretty unlike John.

  "So your asking Paul out with some love letters? Do know that he's queer?"

  I asked. Needing some confirmation. I didn't have a problem with John being queer. Eppy had been gay with our knowledge for ages and we haven't had a problem with it. I know you couldn't help it. Why would anyone go actively against the law unless they couldn't help it.  
  The other four boys seemed to share that opinion too. But while Paul wasn't against it he also just didn't understand it so how could John convince him to date him?

  "I don't know if he is. But he didn't seem upset when I kissed him earlier so maybe he likes me a little aswell."

  "You kissed him?!"

"Yeah I kissed him! He just didn't react or say anything. I think he was surprised. Any way, go put number one through Paul's letter box. Make sure you knock on the door before running off so he can't see you. Next but number 2 outside the church. Make sure it's right by the gate so he can find it, we all know Paul isn't that bright when it comes to these things. Put the third one besides that tree in strawberry fields. After you can fuck off home and I'll tell you all about it in the morning. Ok?"

  John pulled me up to a standing position and started pushing me towards the door. I barely had time to grab my coat on the handstand before he finally shoved me outside his house and shut the door. Even when actually all sappy he was still the classic Lennon I knew.

  "Fine! But you better tell me bloody everything!"

  I shouted towards the shut door before I started making my way towards the first location, Paul's house.

  _____________

  Paul's pov

  *knock knock knock*

  Three hard knocks came from my front door. Strange. Who would want me at this time? I wasn't even meant to be going out to see my family until tommorow evening. And I defiantly didn't want to go out any sooner.  
  Not that I didn't like my family, because I did, it's just there's been so much on my mind. The evening news is already talking about how I was carried onto the plane this morning and all conspiracies were buzzing as to why. Was I sick? Over worked? Dying? The news was full of the bloody roumors and brain was going to kill me for it. Little did they know it was just a mixture of stress and the weakness I've been feeling for weeks now.

  Speaking of weakness, I was going to have to eat with my family tommorow. Just the thought of it was making me feel sick to my stomach. Luckily for me those chips hadn't added anything on, probably due to the walking we did, but a full meal will defiantly add a few pounds.   
  Skipping it wasn't an option either. I didn't want to worry my dad after all he's done to keep us happy and healthy. He'd no undoubtedly notice and I didn't have the heart to lie to him. Not ever.

  Wait. The door.

  I cursed to myself as got up and jogged to the door. Who ever was there had been standing in the cold for minutes now while I was lost in thought worrying about stupid things. Hasitly I opened the door but was only met by an empty garden. Who was it? Probably kids.  
  Before I closed the door a slip of paper caught my eye. The light rain had been falling against it for a few minutes but it wasn't anything too bad as to ruin the paper.   
    Upon inspection it looked far fancier than first thought. It was in a nice envolope with a beautiful sceal. The initials M.E were imprinted onto the wax. Strange. I didn't know any M.E's so who would it be? Only one way to find out.   
   I softly closed the door with the envolope in my hand before I made my way back to the couch to open my exciting letter. Who could it be?!

  *the letter*

  Hello Paul,

  Would you mind going to the church? Your favourite One? I know you're not religious but There'll be another letter like this waiting for you!   
  If your wondering why I'm writing you these letters, and knowing you are probably are, then it's because I need to tell you something very important and I want to make it extra special for you. I also have a little gift if you complete this little scavenger hunt for me too.

  I'll take the rest of this letter to tell you that I love you. I know you may not love me back. You probably won't. But that won't stop me loving you for the rest of my life. Ever since I've met there's been this want in me when it comes to you. I never knew what it was until recently when I realised the want was the want for me to spend the rest of my life with you. It sounds sappy. I promise I won't always be like this but doesn't everyone need to be sappy every so often? I love you Paul and I hope you find the letter outside the church.

From, ???

  *end of letter*

  Who in hells name could it be? Someone had a crush on me and was trying to ask me out romantically? That shit only happens in those love films Jane always drags me along too. Who in gods name could possibly love someone like me too? A chubby boy who'sno fun at dinner parties and just works, works, works. 

  Only one way to find out.

_____________________________________________

  I quick glance around the church gates showed me the location of the second note. It was picking out from besides a beautiful push sprouting white flowers. The rain had gotten to this one aswell but it still didn't ruin it.  
  I opened it and started reading.

  *the latter*

  Dear Paul 

  The next note is in strawberry fields. I promise it's the last one! I just needed you to go here so I could tell you a little story.

  I remember seeing you here. You saw me too. We hit it off instantly and ever since then all I've wanted to do is love and protect you. And for someone like me. The urge to love someone like I love you was new. Scary. But I've seemed to come to terms with it now. 

James Paul McCartney, I want to spend the rest of my life with you.

  I've admitted it to myself. Now all I have to do is admit it to you. 

  See you in strawberry fields.

  Love, ???

  *end of letter*

  So she loves me and we spoke in the church. Not a fan then I don't think. I haven't been to this church in ages and she'd have to be close to me to know it was my favorite church, because I met John there.

  But why was she scared to admit her Love? Was she scared? It seems sorta cute.

  I guess I'll find out at strawberry fields.

_____________________________________________

  I ran along the grass while searching for the last letter. Strawberry fields was a big place and there were so many places to look.   
  Bushes, rocks, fences. I just couldn't find it until I stumbled over to the tree me and John  used to write songs under when Liverpool were in the middle of heatwaves.  
  The note lay next to the tree. The thick branches and leaves keeping it dry from the rainy weather. I was sacked through though having left in a thin shirt and loose pajama pants. I felt quite sick to be honest. A knot was forming in my stomach and once I stopped running my vision blacked out. It was sort if like on the stairs of the hotel. But it didn't matter. This was the last letter.

  *the letter*

  Look behind you macca

  *end of letter*

  The knot of pain in my stomach increased as I slowly turned around. Macca. It couldn't be. Not...john?

  "Hey."

  John said nervously. He was wrapped in a large mac eith gloves, a hat, a thick scarve and some big boots. He looked quite snug unlike me who was freezing through to my bones in the rain.

  It all made sense. It was John's messy handwriting. It was John who I met at the church. It was him who I spent all my time at strawberry fields with growing up.

It was John who loved me all this time.

  "John. You did this?"

  I asked. Did he really love me like that? I've gone bloody years thinking no one loved me enough to want to spend their life with me. I was a misfit. Chubby. Unwanted. I never thought there was anyone who loved me like that.  
  But someone did. And that someone and been with me the whole time while o blindly ignored it.  
  The envolopes dropped from my hands as I stumbled forwards to give him a hug. I felt so weak and fragile but it didn't matter. Someone loved me.  John hugged me back. Swaying us side to side slightyas he spoke.

  "Yeah. I know you probably won't feel the same but it isnt the only reason I'm here. I need to give you this."

  I recoiled from the embrace to see what he had brought me. Even in the rainy nights sky I could see his eyes glistening eith tears in the moon's light. It looked beautiful. He looked beautiful. I have never seen him this way before but God I wish I had.  
  John  reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. He opened it to reveal a beautiful silver ring that was shaped into a beautiful crown with small diamonds scattered throughout it. It was beautiful.

  He took my hand in his as he began talking.

  "Macca. This is a promise ring. Even if you don't love me back you can have this because it doesn't just signify the promise to move each other forever. Not all promise rings can mean that. You can choose what it means really. But I want you to promise that whenever you're wearing this ring. You take care of yourself. As I'd take care of you.   
  I know it'd be hard but please will you take it? For me? I want you to get better Paulie."

  His words stunned me. I slowly nodded and let him slip the ring onto my finger but I wasn't really thinking. Get better? I wasn't ready to get better! I didn't want to get better!   
  The feeling of cool metal on my ring finger reminded me that it was to late though. I had promised. I didn't want to promise! I was going to break the fucking promise!

  There's only one thing I know to do when I can't commit to something. Run from that something. 

  And that's what I did. I ran and ran out strawberry fields. Doing my best to ignore the pain in my stomach and the foggy vision that was coming up. I couldn't promise. I couldn't promise. I couldn't promise.   
  I ran until I couldn't any longer. My legs gave away. I was lying in the middle of Liverpool streets about to loose consciousness. There was no stopping it. And John seemed no where in sight. I made a promise. I can't keep the promise. I can't believe myself. 

  Just as I began to drift off into unconsciousness I lifted up my hand to look at the ring one last time. A crown, a princesses crown. Rich.

  The only one I deserved was a paper crown.

To be continued...


	14. Chapter 14

lukes pov

 "yeah I'll see you soon! love you! bye."

  I sighed as I left the dirty dive bar near the harbour.  I did love seeing my family and friends on stressful days like this but it did get tiresome after a while. especially with aunty rose constantly slurring questions about my children while being far past tipsy. speaking of my children, I was meant to be home to both them and my wife an hour ago.

   I hope they haven't waited up for me because if they have then I'm in deep trouble.

 slowly I made my way down the dark cobbled streets of Liverpool. Deciding to take the 24 hour bus home to save time. the bus stop wasn't too far away and I had some change spare anyway so it wouldn't be a problem.

  I whistled to myself as I made my way to the centre of Liverpool where the closest bus stop was. It was surprisingly barren for a night like this. but there did seem to be a few people out. The same homeless man that always slept outside the pharmacy and some drunk teen passed out on the floor.  I ought to help him out. poor kid probably just drank more then he should have and now has to go home to some angry parents.  quickly I approached the boy, as much as I wanted to help him out I also didn't want to miss my bus. as I got closer and closer it became apparent the boy wasn't doing so good. his face wasn't visible as he had his back to me but through his thin, drenched pjs I could see a tiny boy. literally skin and bones.  

it quickly became apparent this boy wasn't out partying. proved by the fact he was only in pjs as well as his tiny physique. he mustn't be ok. acting quickly I pulled my camera out from my backpack that had just been gifted with aunty rose. I guess it was good she kept me at that bar so long after all as it got me the chance to help this boy out. I snapped a few good pictures of his skinny body in case it makes the news. what can I say I  needed money somehow. my job didn't seem to be going anywhere good.

  I did need some of his face though. I walked round the boy so his back was no longer towards me. I snapped another photo of his front one more time before I crouched down to swipe the hair out of his malnourished face.

  what I saw next froze me in my tracks.

  the starving boy in front of me was none other than Paul McCartney. the Paul McCartney. world famous Paul McCartney.

  This was going to make me rich. very, very rich.

   with the bus long forgotten I snapped a few good photos of the Beatles face before sprinting too the closest phone box to call an ambulance.

  "I'm in Liverpool just by the mersey. A boy is skin and bones and has collapsed in the middle of the square. no I don't know how long he's been there. he's soaked through and freezing. yes. its Paul McCartney. thank you come quick!"

  as soon as the phone went down I immediately dialled another number.

  "is this the daily telegraph? yes? great! oh boy do I have a story for you."


	15. Chapter 15

John pov 

I moped through my empty home. Picking up a bottle of strong wine on my way through the kitchen before eventually clinging myself onto my king sized bed. I took a swing of my wine as I let my eyes close.

There it goes. I took another mouthful of my wine as I opened my eyes again. To say it was painful was an understatement. I just felt like all my hope had been ripped from me. I had been so hopeful. After the kiss I thought he loved me back. He smiled at me. A pretty huge contrast from a few minutes ago where my macca full on ran from me.

Almost everything in my room reminded me of him. The guitar he got me when I was 17 was resting against the wardrobe. I still played it occasionally, despite having much higher quality one's now. The memory was just so special to me.  
The rain soaked envolopes were left crumpled on my bed as well. They looked so depressing. All tattered and worn when they should have been held tightly in Paul's hands as he wrapped his arms around me in strawberry fields. 

It wasn't meant to go like this at all. I was so confident in everything going well. Paul was meant to say he loved me back and we were meant to be falling asleep together. I shouldn't be falling asleep alone with a bottle of wine.

But here we were.

_____________________________________________

There was a huge pain in my stomach. I was going to be sick. Right now. Shit.

Quickly I threw myself out of bed, letting my empty wine bottle fall onto the carpet as I sprinted to the en suite with mere seconds to go before I threw up into the toilet. I felt like utter shit. What had even happened last night?

Oh yeah. Paul had left me.

I can't fucking believe McCartney! A simple fucking 'no' would have been fine he didn't have to sprint off and leave me alone. Real fucking shitty of him.

The clock on the counter displayed 5am. Well I wasn't going to be going back to sleep anytime soon now. Not now I've got all riled up over paul mccartney and his stupid fucking attitude and his fucking beautiful face and his...ugh i can't believe him.

I needed some fresh air. I need a walk.

I cursed myself for sleeping in such uncomfortable clothes but I couldn't gather up the energy to change or really care that much right now. I'm so pissed.  
My coat was snatched from the hat stand before I slammed the door shut. The neighbours would have woken up probably but I didn't care. They were the last thing on my mind right now.

A lit cigarette hung from between my lips as I tried to clear my mind of everything that had happened. My thoughts were in what I could only describe as a huge knot. All needing to be sorted out and straightened again. Everything was quiet save for some tweeting bird's and the occasional car engine. It was too early for most people right now. It'll get busier later.

*7am*

My last cigarette was crushed under my boots. It had been hours since I left my house and I was getting hungry. Not to mention the amount of people out by now would make my way home a lot longer. It'd be a right hassle to go home any later that now. I wanted more wine too.  
Solemnly I made my way through the square. It was so much more lively now than it had been 3 hours ago when I first came out to clear my mind. Which for your information, hasn't been cleared much. It was really just sorrow I was feeling. I couldn't get rid of it.

A few reporters caught my eye as I passed a paper shop. All of which ran towards me with both their notepads and newspapers in hand.  
Without thinking I lifted up my hand to them to show them to leave me alone, none of whom listened.

"Is Paul McCartney ok?"

One asked.

"What do you mean? Of course he is!"

I replied. Honestly I wasn't in the mood to talk to some reporters right now. Not that I ever was but especially not right now.

"He's in hospital isn't he? It's all over the news!"

Another said. HE'S WHAT?

"What do you mean he's in hospital?!"

I asked, actually paying some attention to the reporters now. Paul's in hospital? Since when?! One of the men handed me a news paper. My heart stopped when I saw what was on the front page.

It was Paul. Two pictures of him. One of his skinny body. Another of his face. The headline read "beatles member Paul McCartney found starving in Liverpool square"

*the article*

Is Paul McCartney ok? In the early hours of the morning the bassist was found unconscious by a passer by having collapsed up to 45 minutes before anyone found him.  
His condition is reportedly stable but he's severely underweight. It's unknown why he's that skinny but "we're working to find out the answer" as said by a nurse caring for paul.  
Please send your prayers to Paul and his family in thus difficult time.

*end of article*

He's been in hospital?! He collapsed after he ran form me. Oh my fucking hell why didn't I follow him?! I could have helped!  
I didn't reply to the reporters, instead I just kept the paper and took off running to the hospital   
_______

I'm not proud of this chapter much but I wanted to get a chapter out for you all x btw it's hard to write when your friend is being mean so sorry for any spelling mistakes.


	16. Chapter 16

pauls pov  
my eyes stayed glued to my bare feet in shame as the three nurses around me weighed and measured me. they would lift my arms up, despite my attempts to jerk my arms back down and stop them touching me, wrap a bright yellow tape around my big arms and then finally let them drop to my sides again. only to grab other body parts and repeat the process. it was humiliating, completely and utterly humiliating. but that wasn't even the worse part. the worse part was the questions they asked. constantly prodding me with uncensored questions as to why I'm like this.   
I know the poor girls are just doing their job. but I don't like it at all. it isn't just my health that's on the line here. it's my career. it's my social life. its how society sees me. if I told them I starved myself to be skinny within days it'll be in all the papers, changing how the world views me forever. if I don't tell them perhaps they'll blame it on the rumored drug use of the Beatles. I don't know really. I guess ill just have to deny everything.  
they took a pee sample as soon as I had woken up to test for drugs. explaining that it would show if any drugs had been in my system for 24 hours. fortunately for me id been drug-free, save for some paracetamol to numb the pain of hunger for over a week now. on an empty stomach, any drugs make me feel sick.  
"Ok Mr. McCartney, results are in."  
The main nurse caring for me, well the one who was around the most anyway, came into the room holding a few cream coloured files in her hands. this ought to be the test results. Two nurses ushered me to some seats in the corner of the private room. because of me, though i don't really like saying it, popularity and condition I was put in a private room in hopes ill come clean with my play in why I was like this along with not 'disturbing' the other patients as the nurses put it. the head nurse took a seat on the visitor chair across from me before nodding to the other nurses to ask for some privacy. they left the room before she began speaking.   
"well. you sure have caused a commotion as you're clean of all drugs."  
She started. occasionally looking up from the files at me. I nodded as if I had expected it to be the answer.  
"so, no one knows what has happened to you. now. not to stress you out but it is suspected that it is something to do with you consciously doing something, possibly subconsciously, that's made you dramatically drop weight."  
I didn't butt in as she spoke. just solemnly nodding as she explained everything to me. its as if it was how this hospital communicated. just grabbing my limbs and nodding instead of speaking. as if they were trying to hide my own body from myself like I wouldn't understand it.  
"we cant urge you to tell us anymore as your body is under enough stress as it is but what we think is the best solution is both therapy and meetings with a dietician."  
now that didn't seem half bad. would a therapist tell the press even if I did tell them, not that I would its just I feel like a therapist who trained to deal with things like this would be able to read through the lines very easily? they wouldn't be able to snitch by law though wouldn't they? I'm not too educated on these things. and a dietician, i don't need to listen to them really unless what they're saying will keep me skinny.  
"aight, noted."  
I mumbled quietly. waiting for her to go into more detail. the nurse tapped the filed against the tables to make them straight again before opening her mouth to speak. the door opening stopped her before she could.  
in the doorway stood a short nurse who had been one of the girls weighing me before. what did she need to do now?  
"um Mr. McCartney, Mr. Lennon is here to see you. can I let him in?"  
she asked. as soon as the words were spoken I got a foreign feeling in my chest. like both a rope had been twisted around it and it was expanding. I didn't like it at all. why did he want to see me after for badly I treated him last night? perhaps he wanted to confront me. i couldn't do that right now. no. no. no.  
"deep breaths mr.mccartney."  
the nurse sat across from me calmly encouraged. immediately making me hold my breath to disguise how frantically my heart was making me breathe. i hadn't even noticed until she pointed it out but I suppose I was distracted by the shock of John being here.  
"deep breaths. don't hold it or it'll get worse."  
she said again. I tried to breathe as calmly as I could through only my nose before I shook my head. i didn't want Lennon here. he can yell later. I hate it here enough as it is.  
"no? no, what no visitors?"  
the shorter nurse asked. her voice like the other women, professional. I nodded.  
"ok then Mr. McCartney, ill tell him you'll give him a call if you change your mind?"  
she asked, earning a small nod from me. I doubted id call. the woman left the room leaving me and the main nurse alone again.  
"as I was saying. you would have to meet with the therapist two times a week, we can fit it around your work schedule and they'll be around 1 hour long each, though there's no set time limit. after a few months if your situation improves it will be changed to once a week and so on till you no longer need therapy. the dietician will speak to you once a week and do all check-ups as well as speaking to some people you give the names of who have some control over your food intake. does that sound good?"  
"yes. it does."  
I know i didn't have much of a choice. one way or another it would become public knowledge of what my 'treatment' is. but it doesn't mean you'll know what happens at the treatments. they cant share that because of legal shit.  
here's a form. will you please fill it in for the next hour?"  
she asked. I nodded yet again before she left me alone to fill the form in.  
/form/dietician  
name: James McCartney, Paul   
dob: 18th June 1942  
*insert address and all those numbers here*  
I give permission for: Brian Epstein, James McCartney to be informed of my diet requirements by dr. davies.  
signature: Paul McCartney   
\--------------------------------------  
thank you for reading and sorry I haven't updated in forever. I got Grammarly so enjoy slightly fewer mistakes in my writing (though this story is one big mistake). that form isn't a real thing and this treatment technique is made up by me as something I considered plausible for this story. I tried to do research but I couldn't find any information on how they dealt with it in the 60s or even now for that matter.  
I'm taking prompts for another story rn so please comment any suggestions in you have any. I have two joint stories btw that you should check out (one is still in the making) the_fab_four9  
please vote and comment.


	17. chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so I have another fic out called "nothings gonna change my world" and I think I'm going to take some time editing it and making it more enjoyable. id appreciate it if you gave me some tips on how I could do that! thank you!!!

the nurses turned the lights off before they left the room. one of them, nurse Catherine I think her name was, promised she would be back in around 3 am to make sure everything was in order. nothing to worry about though as id probably be asleep by then.   
but I was still awake now though as the clock flashed to 12:34. my mind had been off of everyone in the outside world as I was more focused on what was happening at the moment. with my breakdown around 6 pm when they tried to get a little food in me. I knew it would raise concern but I just couldn't eat. the thought of food made me feel sicker than the pain caused by starting did to me. by 8 pm they had given up making me eat the porridge and are considering a naso-gastric tube being fitted much to my dismay. From what I've been told it a tube that goes up each nostril and is a way to get food into the body of a patient who cants or won't eat. commonly used for people in comas or patients suffering from anorexia nervous. neither of which I have.  
I tried to protest to that too, promising ill just eat when I feel hungry but it wasn't any use. it was the nasogastric tube or what was called a g-tube which was the same principle but it was a tube that went directly into the stomach which if I'm honest sounded worse and would probably leave a scar and make my body even less pretty.  
Brian was going to turn up Tomorrow. I put him in the form I was given earlier today so I figured the only thing I could do is act somewhat professionally to my manager and explain it to him in person. well about the dietician agreements. not about anything else. I just didn't want anyone to know. being here was worse enough and getting a tube was even worse seeing as it gave me literally no choice but to eat.  
whether id let John come and see me I'm still not sure. he hadn't called and I'm sure he's still upset at me for what I've done to him. but if he was so upset why did he turn up to see me? what did he want from me other than to yell? because I know John can act more than he thinks but I know he wouldn't go to a hospital and start a fight. that's too much even for him.  
he most likely wanted that ring, didn't he? my eyes examined the delicate band of silver for the first time since I fainted in Liverpool square. id almost forgot about it entirely if I was honest. it looked still looked beautiful regardless of the bad thoughts and broken promises surrounding it. John wanted it back though I bet. whats the point of a promise ring is there's no promise for it that hasn't been crushed.  
what will my father think too? should I tell him? would he understand. of course he wouldn't why would a man be concerned with looking pretty? things like that is only for queers, isn't it? not that I'm too far from being queer anyway. but I wasn't going to give that any thought at all. it wasn't important at the moment. I had no business wasting my time thinking about things like that. I had to think about solutions and excuses.

but then again, why exactly did I have to make those. if I'm in a hospital then I'm sure sick. don't i need to get better? doi even want to get better? all this fighting to be pretty. all the pain, nausea and the lies. the guilt of hiding my ugly secret and pretending its natural. is it really worth it when I could just give up and just let my body be how it is? stop caringfor everyone else and live like and eat like my bandmates do. do I want that?

no. no. I don't. I cant. it sounds nice but seeing my body slowly grow and grow into an ugly mess would do more harm. and if I was getting better I couldn't st=rink my huge body back down. I wouldn't be in control of my body. not how I want to be in control anyway. I want to have power over something positively. all these news outlets accusing us of doing drugs and corrupting teenagers. no matter what we do neither i or the rest of the band can stop it. it's my fault and I have no control to make it stop. but with comments on my weight from childhood and from a few friends and family, i guess it wasn't so bad. I had the power and control to get rid of that ugly part of me and it did it from pure self-control.

getting "better" would change that. and I don't want my control being taken away. I want to keep it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey so I have another fic out called "nothings gonna change my world" and I think I'm going to take some time editing it and making it more enjoyable. id appreciate it if you gave me some tips on how I could do that! thank you!!!


	18. chapter 18

Paul's Pov  
My arms self-consciously wrapped around my waist as my eyes took in the sight of my body. The full-length mirror nailed to the bathroom wall showed off every inch of my pale skin, making me uneasy. There were no nurses milling around me in this empty bathroom adjacent to the private hospital room but I still felt like people could see me. Technically they could.   
Of course, there were no eyes on me right now but they could see me as in they could see what I've eaten and what I look like. All my measurements and my weight. I had probably gained while I was there as well, which they all knew I'm sure. I had been neglecting the exercise I normally did to burn off the calories I ate. Not to mention that they had, after an hour or so, managed to get some breakfast into me. Two pieces of toast with some homemade jam that had been made for everyone on the ward. It tasted great but that taste was soon overpowered by the feeling of guilt.  
Starving does carry the consequence of feeling a large amount of pain in your empty stomach when you do eat something which I found out fairly quickly. It's unusual for me to eat so much at one time. It was painful emotionally and physically.  
In under an hour, I was having a short meeting with Brian to explain what he needed to know about the dietician thing. 

It was why I was glaring at myself in the mirror right now actually. I needed to have a shower and get dressed in the hospital gown so I could look a little less disgusting when I met him. He promised on the phone he would bring a change of clothes for me for when I get out which I was looking forward to. But right now I was in this ugly, blue hospital gown that had that weird spotty pattern that hurts your eyes when you stare at it too long.   
Brian would see my body straight away and I had no doubt he'll be concerned. Everyone, well the nurses and john at least, was when they saw me. They didn't understand what was going on in my head though so they wouldn't be able to understand what was up with me even if I tried to explain it to them.  
They couldn't understand why I needed to force myself not to eat in order to be skinny. The shame would be far too much as well. It was barely a problem to me. I was still performing and keeping up fairly well with tours and what not. It's just a little secret of mine that's getting out even though I'd like to keep it to myself. It's not like it won't die down though. I'm leaving this afternoon after my talk with Brian. The nurses were reluctant to let me go so soon but they're letting me so long as I follow the diet plan strictly and stay away from too much activity.   
I hadn't read the paper while here though past the first morning when the nurse showed me the front page. I know it'll be a big story right now but the press move to new stories constantly...don't they?  
I put Brian on the form because he was the one booking places to eat and all that when we were on the tour so he would need to know to make sure I ate what I needed. It was a practical choice I made when putting under pressure from the nurse who was waiting beside me for me to finish. I'm sure he'll have some questions and I didn't know how to answer them if he did ask. I get a rotten feeling in my chest lying to people and if lying to Brian was bad then it would be really bad lying to my dad who was on the form as well.   
\-----------  
"I do appreciate you wanting to speak with me, Paul. ever since we stay the front page of the telegraph we've been worried sick! Especially George! he can't believe he didn't notice before now!"  
brian fussed from across from the seat beside my bed. the nurse had come in and promised to come back with my tube thing in a minute to explain to Brian how it worked so there be someone around to help if I were to get stuck doing it. She had also mentioned how much I hated it and he had to make sure I used it. which I wasn't grateful for. I had worn it once and let me tell you cold liquid, such as milk, traveling up your nose and down your throat (without consent) is a horrible feeling. it feels like I'm constantly failing to swim.  
"I know I feel bad it's just it's so stressful here with me getting used to the tube and having to sort out the forms and just thinking about what the press is going to do when I get out the hospital and I've just been trying to make everything as simple as possible. ill be out in a few hours anyway so I guess I can see them soon."

\-----------------------------------  
I'm leaving it here because I've literally searched every corner of the internet for infort=mation on gtube diets and I can't find a thing. I know you can have milk through a g-tube so I included that as well as it being pretty unpleasant so I included that but if anyone has any information on that plz let me know.   
also, today is the year anniversary of my first ever fic...that's pretty cool  
I'm going to re-read this story and try and get back into the style of my earlier chapters since I feel like this story is getting less and less interesting for you to read. it'll get better when he gets out the hospital (next chapter) because I cant do anything in there hospital chapters so they're all shit. thanks for reading!!


	19. Chapter 19

    
  Paul's pov

  The TV flicked from scene to scene as I watched it. Not paying much attention to it at all, I couldn't be bothered today.  
   Unlike other days where I would spend all day lying in front of the TV today I didn't see the appeal.  
   Just two hours ago Brian dropped me off at my home after God knows how long of being in the hospital. He said numerous times he didn't want to leave me alone so quickly but after promising to use my tube thingy he left me with a few hours to myself. In the end he probably saw how much I needed some time to myself, with everyone being up my ass recently.

  From the second the front door closed I've been set on messing around with my instruments again, maybe writing a song or just staying and practicing before I had to go to my dad's later today. In the hospital there was no guitars or pianos, obviously. And I've just been itching to write something.

  But somehow I still remained on the couch. My eyes dropping more and more as the show continued. All sorts. Completely closed when it ended and by the time a new shows theme song was playing I was asleep.

  *dream paul*

  My eyes shot open.

  My hands felt the fabric I was lying on. It was a soft, pastel blue, fabric. Like the type typically on a sun bed. The golden sun's heat bested down on me in such a pleasant way it destingished all thoughts of confusion and panicking.  
   Slowly, I sat up on the sun bed to take a closer look st my surroundings. The sky was a pure blue and had white, fluffy clouds dotted around. There was a large, rectangular pool about a meter from the row of sun beds. It seemed to be some sort of hotel, Maybe in some tropical island. But no one was here. I was by myself with only the chirping of the birds and the sound of the water fountain to keep me company.

  I lay down and let my eyes shut again. Not moving as I let myself enjoy the feeling on the sun on my pale skin. Speaking of my body, I seemed to be wearing nothing more than those swim trunks I had in Miami and an unbuttoned, white, cotten shirt.

  "Are you enjoying yourself?" 

  A familiar voice asked from behind the chair. I opened my eyes again and stole a glance at him. It was John. He was wearing clothes similar to mine and had a soft smile on his face.   
  It didn't confuse me that John was here. Although I liked the peace and quiet of being here by myself I was even happier to share it with John. 

  "hey Johnny. Do ya wanna sit with me?" 

  I asked as I once again sat myself up on the sunbed and twisted so I was facing another chair. John smiled and took a seat opposite me. Only now did I notice he was holding a guitar. 

  "it's nice here, isn't it?"

  John smiled softly. I nodded at his question and eyed the guitar he was holding. It was my guitar from when I was a teenager. I could tell by the scratched in initials on the neck of the instrument. I haven't played it in years. But again, I wasn't confused John had it. I just sort of accepted it. 

  "you want to play?" 

  He asked, passing the instrument to me. Softly I held the guitar and sturmmed a few chords. It was perfectly in tune even after years of not using it. The sun still beat down on my back as I messed around with the instrument for a few minutes. Getting a feel for it again.

  "how about you write a song? What a better place to write than right here?"

  John suggested. I shrugged and watched him run gudrun fingers through his auburn hair. He looked everywhere so relaxed here. Birds sung around us the light hit him in such a way that made all his best features stand out. He looked, soft. Friendly. At peace. I liked it. 

  "what do I write about?" 

  I asked still taking in his beauty. 

  "you know what to write about." 

  He answered simply. 

  Suddenly it all pieced together in my head. John was right. What better way to deal with it than write a song?  
  My fingers seemed to arranged themselves on the fret board all by themselves. I had no control as they started to piece a song together. I didn't have much control either as I began to sing to John. 

  "yesterday, all my troubles seemed to start away, now it looks as. Though there here to stay, oh I belive in yesterday." 

*end of dream Paul (died like Paul did in 1966) *

  My eyelids fluttered open again and focused on the ray of light now shining through my open curtains. A smile came to my face as I recalled the dream I just had. I needed to write something before I forgot! 

  I pulled myself up to my feel and shuffled to the front room, where I kept my instruments. As I walked I sang softly. 

  "scrambled eggs."

________

Sorry I haven't posted in like a month. I feel like I'm repeating myself too much and I'm showing Paul's eating disorder in a too cliche light. So I'm going to change it up a bit and making the story move along quicker.  
  Little spoiler: it might grt better and better but then crash and burn again.

  Thanks for reading!


	20. Chapter 20

   Paul's pov

   An or two had passed from when I had woken up from my sleep. I had started and almost finished the song I was working on. Normally writing a song and melody would take over a day or two but it just seemed to come naturally to me today. The dream as sorted most of it for me. 

  In about 10-20 minutes John and ringo would be here, all three of us being joined by George and Brian in about an hour aswell. Perhaps we would just go over the treatment I had to do and possibly my new song rather than the reason I was in the hospital in the first place. Ringo wouldn't push to talk about it, I know that for sure. John however...   
   Maybe he would even yell at me. I mean with his short temper and the fact I full on deserted him in strawberry fields it wouldn't even be a supprise of he was mad. Although he did try and see me in the hospital. I guess I'll have to wait and see.   
    
    I wasn't too nervous though, I mean I was definitely nervous. But the excitement of wanting to show John my new song overshadowed any nerves in the I had completely. I could do this. 

    
  A few minutes past before I heard a knock on the door. A pang of nerves hit me in the chest but I only stood up and straightend my clothes before making my way to the front door, note book in hand. 

   "Paul! We were so nervous! Are you OK?" 

   Ringos worried voice was the first thing I heard as I opened the door. He was stood besides John wearing a similar outfit of jeans and a casual shirt. I was dressed in a long sleeved denim button-down and denim pants (because people got away with that shit in the 60s).

   "yeah, yeah. 'm fine. I just need to rest."

   I said casually, briefly fidgeting with the binding of my notebook before opening the door wider to let them both in. I followed them into the spacious living room and sat alone on the large armchair besides the window. The other two took a seat on the couch. 

   "I wrote a new song John. Do you wanna help out with finishing it?" 

  John hadn't spoken at all yet at all, I mean he didn't have much reason to until now but he didn't even mutter a hello. 

   "nah, it's your song."

   He said simply, flipping the TV channel to some comedy skit. He didn't seem to take much notice of me, though he didn't look angry. 

   "so what did the hospital say paulie?" 

  Ringo asked, obviously trying to spark up some convocation between us seeing as John wasn't really in the talking mood.   
   Should I tell him about the feeding tube? I mean if I did there's always the possibility that he would make me use it. 

  " um, nothing out of the ordinary. I have to meet with a dietician to make sure I'm eating the right stuff and I need to rest and all that shit, y'know. But what have I missed? I haven't seen any of you in a while." 

  Ringos pov

  *20 minutes earlier*

"so, how did Paul react to the letters?"

  I asked John as he drove. Trying my best to start some sort of conversation with him. He hadn't spoken much since Paul was hospitalised and to be fair, he did promise tell me how it went. But seeing as he hasn't told me anything yet, I doubt it worked out. 

   "He ran away from me." 

  John mumbled, his fingers tapping a beat onto the stirring wheel as he waited for the light to turn green. I couldn't think of what to say to him, his voice had near to no expression and I got the impression he didn't want to talk about it right now. 

   "well, do you want to go over what happened maybe? In more detail?" 

   I asked as Paul's house came into view. From my understanding he was home alone at the moment. And I know that because John got pissed at Brian when he found out he had left him to his own devices.   
   John didn't answer me, he focused solely on the road even though it was unlikely that he was going to crash ten meters away from Paul's house. 

   "look, come around to mine tonight, John. I'll get some beer and you can't just rant about it to me. Sound good?" 

  I asked as the car came to a stop. John didn't move for a few seconds before speaking. 

  "yeah. Yeah, that sounds good." 

_____________________________________________

   I hope you all haven't forgotten about this story, I mean it's been a month...   
I have an idea for this story now so you won't have to wait a month for one chapter which is good I guess. 

    Also I'll try and get a new chapter out super super soon to say thank you for 4.7k!!!! Thank you all so so so so so so much


	21. Chapter 21

Ringos pov

After a few awkward minutes of silence we eventually broke into an easy chat. John didn't speak at all and kept his eyes fixated onto the TV screen that was playing a show while Paul and I spoke. The show was one I would have never guessed him to be interested in but regardless he spent a solid hour watching it until we heard the door bell ring.

"I'll get the door!"

Paul chimed with an easy going smile on his face. He seemed rather happy the whole time we've been here, it makes me feel less worried about him. Maybe he was just too stressed and busy that he never took enough time to eat. Surely after this though he'll get back into the swing of things.

"no no, Paul. I'll get it, the hospital did tell you to rest and all that."

I stood up before Paul did and walked past John, who was still very absent from our conversation, and towards the from door to let the rest in.  
As I opened the door I was met with brain's and George's smiling faces. In Brian's hands were some papers and in George's were a tin of digestives, so very George.

"come in guys! We're in the living room."

I stepped out of the way to let them in and we all shuffled back go the living room and took a seat. Soon after Brian began to speak.

"so, Paul, if I remember correctly you need to use your tube in an hour, correct?"

Brian stated, making me and the other two oblivious Beatles turn and stare at our manager. What the fucks a tube?

"huh?"

George asked, taking the words right out of my mouth. Brian only shook his head and continued to look at Paul inquixitively.

"No, I don't think so."

He said simply, messing with his thumbs on his lap. Why would he leave out such a big part of his treatment?

"I'm pretty sure the hospital said you had to. I suggest you take it soon because in an hour and 15 minutes we need to be at a sound check for tommorow."

Brian sighed at the first part. Looking odly like a parent who's child won't eat thier vegetables. I had forgotten about the sound check almost entirely too. I mean I knew me and John had to drive here so the taxi could pick us all up in one go but I had gotten to swept up in the convocation with Paul I had forgotten about it almost entirely.  
The sound check was going to be utter hell. With Paul in hospital we had missed out on three concerts - all three of which had sold out - so we had to reschedule them so we didn't disappoint the fans. This means that we have a 5/7 days packed with live shows this week. How Paul was going to handle it I don't know.

"Do I have to?"

Paul huffed as he stood up from his chair, making me wince slightly. I didn't like him being to active when I knew what was ahead. Obviously walking around the house wasn't really being active but still, I didn't like him missing out on rest.

"I mean if the hospital says so you need to, Macca. Look I'll help you out."

John chimed in with a almost annoyed voice, to my supprise. I didn't think he had taken in what we were saying as he watched the TV but I guess we was at least vaguely listening. Paul looked taken back slightly from John's sudden choice to speak but regardlessly he and John walked out the room and into the hall to fetch this tube thing.

"The hospital said how he hated using his tube. He does need to do it though."

Brian explained to both me and George. We both nodded and George began asking questions about, and a quote, "what the fuck is a tube?" I listened loosely to what Brian had to say as I heard the footsteps from the other side of the wall sound towards the music room, no speaking though, just footsteps. They were probably going to do it in a more private area. Perhaps John would bring up whatever happened in strawberry fields.

_____________________________________________

Done, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Especially since you didn't have to wait a month+ for it like the last three!

Remember to vote and comment


	22. Chapter 22

**little nite thingy here, I don't know how g tubes work so this is just a wild guess, there honestly isn't much info that I could find on these sorts of diets but if you're really interested I guess you could find some stuff**

Paul pov

   The boys loud chatter could still be faintly heard as I shuffled down the oak wood floors and to the music room. It was a large room with a bay window - tightly drawn to keep fans and such from glancing in- the walks were a light gray and along with an assortment of instruments, thee were two arm chairs and a couch in the far back of the room.   
   Quietly, I sat down on the chair I had been writing on previously with my bag of wierd liquidized food in my hand. John sat opposite me on the free armchair and watched silently as I tried to set it up. I tried following the instructions the nurse gave me to orginsie the, rather tangled, tube as John continued to stare. 

   "how long do you need to use it?" 

  John asked, again in an almost expressionless voice. I don't know why he had to be here, he wasn't really saying or doing anything. Just watching me fiddle with this piece of shit. 

  "I don't know. I suppose the dietician will tell me."

  I said simply as I hooked the tube over my ears and cringed as the disgusting liquid intruded my nostrils. When I had done this in the hospital I cried for God knows how long in front of the nurses. Goddam embarrassing it was. I just hope no one tells the press.   
  I remember two nursed sat either side of me. One rubbing my back while the other held the pouch of food. Both doing their upmost best to calm down the fucking 21 year old who was crying like a child.   
   When they asked why I was crying I told them it hurt and I didn't like how it felt. Which was partly true as I did feel like shit and it left your nose raw after using it. But it was the guilt of it more than anything. 

   The world knew I cheated. Well, they knew I didn't eat enough but they didn't know it was me choosing to do it. But now everyone knows I need to have this fucking tube and stick out like a sore thumb. Additionally I couldn't control my weight anymore. With this piece of shit I had no choice but to eat whatever was in the pouch. I'm being forced to put in weight and I don't have the option to stop it... I've lost control. 

   "Are you alright, mate?" 

  John pulled me back to reality. Obviously noticing that I had gone into a sort of trance. He didn't sound too warming but he didn't sound as before as before either. 

  "yeah, yeah. I'm fine." 

  I mumbled as the disgusting food continued to make its way down. My throat felt tighter than normal but it wasn't too uncomfortable. To go along with that though my chest felt. Unusually tight too. The room just felt awkward now. We didn't speak to each other and only sat in silence as the tube did its work. making me miss the normally easy nature of our convocations. 

   Truthfully, I can't help but feel guilty. I've hurt him, ran away from him, overall treated him like shit and now that I've gotten myself into such a situation he can't even shout at me for it. It wasn't fair at all, he shouldn't have to pretend he isn't pissed, he shouldn't even been pissed in the first place because I shouldn't have ran off. 

  My hands moved an I felt something hard slide against the tube. I looked down and saw the silver ring. The ring John gave me when I ran from him. The one with the crown and the diamond. I've just been so caught up in everything I forgot to take it off. Now because of my own carelessness John's probably noticed and I've just rubbed salt into the wound. What's wrong with me. 

  "I'm sorry." 

   I said, quietly but so he could still near it. After the two words left my mouth I instantly regretted it. So I've fucking ran away from him, rubbed it in. And now I've Braught it all up way too soon. What the fuck is wrong with me.   
  My throat seemed to get even tighter and my heart noticeably sped up. I didn't want to be here. I had to leave.   
   Without thinking I stood up as fast as I could without getting dizzy and ran as fast as I could out the room and up the stairs. I didn't hear John but I also wasn't listening, all I could hear was the rapid beating in my ear grtting louder and louder.

   I took a sharp left and ran into my bedroom where I tightly shut and locked the door before slowly sliding down against it.  
   My index finger and thumb slid down the tube and pinched it near the bottom. Stopping the food.

   "I can't do this."

   I mumbled brokenly as the tears began to fall. I couldn't do this at all.

_____________________________________________

   I actually need to learnt to write. Like I've forgotten how to use full stops and commas. Like I've gone crazy!??  
   I'll try and sort something out for next chapter. Also, I'm going to try and add more description to my story from now on.

   Still regretting sending him to the hospital.


	23. Chapter 23

   Paul's pov

  I remained curled up on the rough carpet for a good few minutes. Not crying, even though I felt like it, but instead just breathing heavily and trying to make the lump in my throat and the tightness in the chest disappear all whist tightly pinching the tube.  
   I didn't want to do this. I can't do it. Every time I calmed down I fired right back up again. Everytime I get any sense of security it gets ripped away from me and I'm put into hospital. I just want the last month to dissappear from existence completely.  
   Better yet, I wish I was a teenager in Liverpool again. Free of troubles, not caring about what people thought and, above all, not having to mentain some sort of perfect image I have now I'm a Beatle... I wish I wasn't a fucking Beatle.

   I paused for a few seconds, I relaxed for a second and my body fell limp. Did I want to be a Beatle? Did I really? Everything seemed so much easier before I was one. But again, love the band.  
   Just as a thought the tube I had stopped pitching as I relaxed carried on with the mushed up food. My body tensed once again and I pinched it right away. I could never escape what I've gone for even a second.

   I stayed on the floor for a few more minutes. Just listening to the breeze bang the oak tree branches against the bay window as I thought. Eventually my body finally gathered the strength to pull myslef up. Luckily no one had come looking for me so I tiptoed to the bathroom so I didnt disturb the boys downstairs and stared at myslef in the mirror.

   I was a fucking mess. I'm a fucking Beatle, act like it! 

   I pulled open the wooden cabinet and Braught out a comb and a paper clip. Slowly I combed my dirt brown hair into my signature style until I was happy with it. Next it picked up the bag I had in my hoodie pocked and pulled it open. I inspected the wierd, brown sludge it contained. The sheer thought of digesting that made my stomach churn. Thinking quickly, I opened the toilet seat and poured half of the bag into the toilet before inspecting the actual packet, I'd pour out more later.

   "750 calories per bag, three to one bag(s) a day depending on doctors recommendations"

   I mumbled the writing under my breath. 750 calories?? Honestly, I couldn't remember the last time I ate that many calories in a day! And now they expect me to eat that or more? Fuck no, I can't do that.

   My eyes glanced back to the paper clip I had left discarded on the counter and picked it up before fastening it to the bottom of the tube. Stopping the flow of the remaining liquid without me having to pinch it. Perfect.

   Before I left the bathroom I shaved my face and did a few other random tasks to help my appearance before I retreated towards my bedroom again where I opened the window and let the refreshing cold hair sweep into the room. I stayed with my eyes closed just listening to the sounds around me before I pulled myself back on task to get ready for this interview thing we had to do. I was a Beatle not a bird, I can't go crying constantly. 

______________

  So I'm super unhappy with this story. The first three chapters were great but I've sorta fucked myself over because I didn't plan ahead and shit. I'm still going to finish the story so don't anyone worry I just needs ask if you'd all be interested in reading a different Ed fic I wrote one alongside this one?

What I'm thinking is:

°Paul was teased for being chubby in his childhood so I'd like to place it into the pre beatles time.

  °I'd plan ahead a lot more and really put more effort into making my grammar and writing more enjoyable and easy to read. 

  °I'd include the slow slope into an eating disorder which I left out this fic. 

  °I'd probably make "prejudice" about the Ed because my initial plan for it was a little ambitious so I'll probably conjoin my plan for prejudice with nothing's gonna change my world because that'd be easier for me.


	24. Chapter 24

     
   Ringos pov

   "do you think that in this album you're going to be experimenting with new techniques?"

   The journalist directed the query towards John rather than all of us seeing as they tend to assume that he is the one that makes all the big choices around here. John had been rather involved the entire interview, answering more questions in a lot more detial than he used to. Perhaps it was to give Paul a bit of a rest, or perhaps he was just in a witty mood.   
    
  "yeah I'd say we are. Paul's written something this morning that'd get on the album for sure. Probably a stripped back song with just a guitar. In comparison to our full band stuff."

  John explained to the interested press, who jotted down what he said on their small notebooks. Once Paul retreated upstairs earlier John swiftly returned to the living room with his notebook in hand. We assumed he was going upstairs to get ready for the interview something and left him be while we went over the song. I mean, it was probably hard to change with a fucking tube connecting your nose to your hip, nevermind while you were incredibly weak so we let him have the extra time.   
   We all briefly looked over the song before we left, John holding the notebook while crossed legged on the carpet with me and George on either side of his shoulder peering over at the messy handwriting on the pages. All three of us getting a rough feel for how the words stringed together to make a song. He had written a good one, no doubt about it. 

   "Paul, what is the song about?" 

   A second reporter asked, this time directing it at Paul- who had been noticeably quiter during this interview.

  "just the usual. It's going to be one of the slower songs on the album." 

   Paul answered. Just as he did a piece of paper slid over the table and hit me in the forearm - which were crossed on the table. I looked to my right to see John pushing the note further towards me. Descretly, I opened and read the letter. 

   Can I come straight to yours after this? I need to talk to you and I can't wait until tonight 

_______________

   
   John's pov

  I pushed the phone away from be for what must have been the tenth time that evening. As promised I had driven myself over to Ringos for the night once the sound check and quick interview had finished. I explained what happened to him in full. Making me feel an ounce of guilt and spreading what I think Paul hoped to be private information.  
   But I did have to tell someone, and I'm sure Paul would have wanted it to have been Ringo more than anyone.

   We sat in Ringos, rather spacious, kitchen and he sat in silence as I went over the events. Occasionally nodding and even rubbing my back when I seemed to get myself worked up. It was definetly hard taking about my rejection, especially when the wound was very much still open. But in the end I think it'll help me get over it quicker.   
   Once I had finished explaining Ringo picked up his phone attached to the wall and kept trying to put the receiver up to my ear she he diled pauls number. 

   "he's obviously not thinking straight right now. You need to be there for him and show him you love him!" 

  Ringo insisted. I did want to talk to him. It was hard acting as if I didn't care when I was undoubtedly heartbroken by the whole chain of events. I didn't want to be a burden to Paul while he was going through this nor did I want to make him feel guilty if he saw how sad I was. 

  "hello?" 

  Paul's soft voice sounded into my ear. Jesus christ Ringo! Quickly I shot Ringo a death glare before taking the receiver into my own hands. Here we fucking go. 

    "hey macca, it's John." 

  I took a cuppa Ringo made for me in my free hand as I waited for Paul's response. 

  "oh hey John!" 

  Paul said, rather cheerfully. 

  "hey, so I wanted to talk about that night. In strawberry fields."

  ______________________________________

  The familiar sound of my beatle boots hitting the tiles was loud and clear in the empty mersey square once again. The only sound to muffle it bring the sound of heavy rain falling around me. Raindrops effectively mixing in with my tears as I walked to the harbour. I don't even know what I was doing anymore. It was almost as if someone else was controlling my feet, but it was really my own mind.   
   The phone call with John soon turned heated. He told me how I broke his heart, made him miserable and so much more. Causing waves of guilt to hit me like a tsunami. Everything was fine until a few weeks ago where my world as I knew it came crashing down around me. My life will never go back to how it was and I was having a dam hard time accepting that. 

   I climbed on to the harbour wall as I thought. My thoughts seemed to be louder than any sound around me. Wether it was the rain or the sound of my boots it didn't compare to the sound of my thoughts in my head at this time.   
  Nervously, I played with my thumbs as I let my feet dangle over the edge. I took in the sight of the cold, icy waters crashing against the harbour and cascading back down only to do it again, relentless, like my thoughts. With a croaked voice I began to sing, feeling shivers of coldness serge through my frail body.

   "yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away, now it looks as through they're here to stay, oh I belive in yesterday."

   The night air was so chilly I felt as if I was loosing feeling in my fingers, toes and knees. My body was becoming numb. All the better for what my mind was begging to do.

   Shakily, I stood up. My legs rattling like straws as I put my weight onto them. My toes were over the edge, the wind was strong, my thoughts were screaming. It was as if my entire life was leading up to this short moment. I felt as if I was being pushed to do this with my own mind. As if I wanted it deep down.  
   I took a brief moment to remove my boots and ring, using the worn boots to disguise the exspinsive ring. My shakely hands did thier best to write "for John" on a recipet which I also put in my boots.

   Enough stalling. I stood up straight again and for the last time looked around the square. Where I grew up. I saw the butchers where is get meat from with my mum, I saw the hairdressers where I got my first haircut, I saw the record shop me and John would requent. I saw my childhood, how I was happy, all my memories with those I loved. Being completely oblivious to the fact I ass going to leave it all behind here. John was going to walk through here almost everyday, he was going to see where we laughed and played and also where it came crashing down. I was selfish. I can't believe I could be capable of causing people so much pain. I've done this, it's no one's fault but mine.

    I looked down again at the cold waters, there was no ladder or life rings. Only cold, murky water and seaweed covered walls. Fit for a princess wearing her paper crown.  
   The world seemed to stop as I tipped over the edge. I could see me and John in my mind so vividly as I fell. I could see a bright smile on his face as he plated guitar. Then I could see the love in his eyes as he leaned in to kiss me. What have I done, I could be happy, I knew I could!  
  But, as I realised it, it was already too late, my body made contact with the icy water and it was over. The pain I felt in that moment was all too much. Not really from the impact but from the life I had thrown away in that instant.

  With my dying breath, already under the water, I breathed out "John" 

________

  Ok first of all :  
Adult Helpline: 0808 801 0677  
Studentline: 0808 801 0811  
Youthline: 0808 801 0711 

Second of all:

I'm so sorry for this guys. I might have "killed" Paul there but I did do it for a couple of reasons

1\. I was unhappy with how I portrayed eating disorders.  
    
    The first three or so chapters were alright but after a while, when my own issues were getting better, I sort of forgot how I felt to be in the position Paul was. And I found it hard to set it in the 60s where help wasn't so available.

  2. I got myself into a hole

    When he went to hospital I sorta fucked myself over, I didn't have as much freedom to write as before I had mainly focused on it hding a secret but as soon as he was hospitalised I had to change everything.

  3. I wanted to make a new eating disorder fic (and possibly do a sequal go this book)

  I want to do one where its in the 50s and stuff seeing as I think that will be easier to write for me. Additionally Paul may be fished out but I don't know. Its up to all of you!

  4. I don't know enough about eating disorder treatment.

   Once Paul was hospitalised I really didn't know how he would be treated and so on so I had to do a lot of googling and I was overall scared that I wasn't portraying the recovery process properly.

  Random note:

  Send me some prompts if you have anything you'd like me to write and also share your thoughts on a sequal to this! (or a differed ED fic)

   Thank you so much for the support and love you all gave this fic! You're what encourages me to write and I generally appreciate you all so much!


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